


Jesse Blackthorn Drabbles/Prompts

by orphan_account



Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: A little of everything really, I just really love Jesse Blackthorn, Multi, slightly more specific descriptions are in chapter titles :), there's fluff and angst and a fair dose of awkward tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of ficlets centered around Jesse Blackthorn (and his relationship with Lucie/his family), with some bits here and there about the other amazing TID/TLH characters.
Relationships: Jesse Blackthorn/Lucie Herondale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	1. Lucie x Jesse- flirting, cuddles, some tension, ballroom slow dance scene, Jesse plays piano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!

“Can I…touch your hair?”

Jesse blinked. He opened his mouth, but no words came out; he stared at Lucie, bewildered. His expression was adorable, innocent-looking, the troubles of the world around them momentarily forgotten.

“Never mind that,” said Lucie, fighting a blush and turning back to her work hastily, “my mistake, sorry.”

“No-no, Lulu, it’s fine,” he said dazedly, sitting up where he’d been slouched against the wall opposite the desk.

At that, Lucie couldn’t stop her cheeks going bright pink. What was _wrong_ with her? This was Jesse, he was familiar, she didn’t know why she was responding this way to a simple friendly nickname.

She twisted in her chair to look at him, brows furrowed in astonishment. “You mean it?”

He smiled a little, tilting his head to the side. “I do mean it. Would you like me to sit by your side? Stand? How about like this?” He struck a dramatic pose, hands in his hair, and Lucie couldn’t help the giant laugh that burst out of her. Laughter wasn’t rare for Lucie, but something about Jesse sparked a different kind of joy in her.

“You’re not a model, Jesse,” Lucie got out, in between fits of laughter. Between Jesse’s poses, each more ridiculous than the last, and Lucie’s obnoxious cackling, the two of them couldn’t settle down for more than ten seconds before cracking up again.

Lucie, deciding any further attempts to write would be futile, got up from the writing desk and sat where Jesse had been earlier, motioning for him to sit next to her. For a few minutes, Lucie was content to sit there with her thoughts, gazing out the massive windows into the city below. Slowly, she shifted closer to Jesse so that they were shoulder to shoulder. In her peripheral vision, she saw him turn his head to look at her, but Lucie kept her eyes straight ahead. She felt more than saw the corners of his lips curve up softly, and Lucie, inspired by a sudden, foolish, bravery, wordlessly pulled him down, gently laying his head in her lap.

Jesse gave a little gasp in surprise, full lips parting, and Lucie hesitated. “Is…is this okay?” she asked, dreading the moment he’d pull away.

He sat up, Lucie’s heart sinking, but only to face her and grip her hands firmly. “Lucie, it’s more than okay. And…you can play with my hair, if you want.” He gave her a little half-smile, trust in his eyes, and settled back onto Lucie.

They sat there like that for a while, the only sound in the room their matched, steady, breathing. Eventually, Jesse got up to get a book from his extensive collection- _Pride And Prejudice_ , of all things- and started reading to Lucie, his clear voice soothing her, and Lucie kept on carding her fingers through Jesse’s silky hair, his warm body a comforting weight.

Lucie snorted when he got to the part where Elizabeth rejected Mr. Darcy’s proposal.

“What, you find it funny that she broke the man’s heart?” teased Jesse, smirking.

“I admire her doing the best thing for herself. She wasn’t about to take any nonsense from Darcy! How many women in literature do that?” retorted Lucie.

“Good point. I suppose you’ll have to write them all yourself, then,” said Jesse musingly.

“Well, what did you think _The Beautiful Cordelia_ was for?”

He laughed, and stretched, moving out of her lap. Lucie mourned the loss of his warmth, but leaned back onto her hands. Jesse sprang upwards, and she tilted her chin up to look at him. “Where are you going?”

“I just remembered, I have a surprise! I’ll be back, Lucie, don’t go anywhere!” He grinned, winked, and darted out the door before she had the chance to respond.

Lucie shook her head fondly. She took the opportunity to look around a little more. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever visited him in Chiswick, where he lived alone right now- she’d come a few times before, to bring him whatever comforts she could, sometimes lemon tarts she swiped from the boys’ stash at the Devil, a tastefully decorated dagger he might like, half-finished manuscripts, and the like- but it was her first time inside his room. 

Improper as it may have been, Lucie had asked Jesse to show her, interested in what kind of space he lived in. Unsurprisingly, it was the only room in the ruined estate that was still preserved. Everywhere were stacks and stacks of books, messy yet somehow organized and clean. It was a welcoming place, and Lucie felt…comforted there.

It was the amount of books in the space, she decided. That’s why she liked it, because it reminded her of the familiarity of the London Institute. Mystery solved.

Something in the corner of the room caught her eye. Lucie moved to inspect it a little closer. Realizing what it was, she smiled to herself, thinking about a promise Jesse had made her, weeks ago.

She realized he was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with an emotion on his face she couldn’t place. She blushed a little bit, and turned to him, the sheet music she’d just found in hand. “Remember when you said you’d play for me?”

“I did promise you that,” Jesse said, voice husky, for some reason. He cleared his throat, saying, “Actually, I-I have something for you. A gift, you could call it.”

“Jesse!” Lucie beamed. “For me?”

He hesitated, then stepped forward, extending a hand to her. She looked at it, and then at his face, and took his hand hesitantly. Jesse squeezed her hand, offering a grin, and she squeezed back, her grip surer, now. He led her through a hallway she’d never been in before, and Lucie should have noticed that he’d taken the sheet music with him, but she was too distracted by how soft his fingers were, and how big his hand was compared to hers.

Jesse stopped at the ballroom, taking a deep breath and letting go of her hand. He crossed the marble floor glittering with broken glass, and sat down at the piano.

He looked up at Lucie and smiled hopefully, and her heart leaped into her throat. She gave Jesse an encouraging look, and let her eyes wander over his hauntingly lovely figure, posed at the piano.

For once, she wasn’t thinking about the setting it would’ve made in a novel.

Jesse began to play, long musician’s fingers gliding over ivory keys, and Lucie caught her breath at the opening notes.

She listened, really listened, and within the music she heard love. She heard painful loneliness, and tears nobody saw, and a boy who deserved all the world’s love. A boy who cried out in silence. A boy who still had the capacity for tenderness, and longing, and the ability to put such jubilation into Lucie’s heart.

As the last notes escaped outside the open windows, Lucie realized she’d unconsciously moved to stand closer. Halting directly in front of the piano, she made eye contact with Jesse, an unreadable look on his face as he watched her with dark eyes.

“What did you think?” he asked nervously. Lucie opened her mouth, then closed it again. As he sat very still, waiting for her reply, Lucie studied him a moment. She let herself see him, the dueling delicacy and sharpness in his features; the strength of his body and that of his heart. The pure humanity inside his green eyes, and the soft curves of his lips.

“Beautiful,” Lucie said quietly.

“Thank you,” Jesse said, looking relieved. “I’ve been practicing, I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

He thought she meant his piano music, Lucie realized.

“I’ve never heard such lovely music before,” said Lucie, reaching for his hand. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about, Jesse.”

She raised her chin to meet his eyes, letting him read the meaning in her face and interpret it as he wished.

“Jesse Blackthorn,” she said, swallowing hard, “May I have this dance?”

Jesse nodded, his expression heavy and yet wistful, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. He pulled her close to him, his eyes never leaving her face.

They spun around the half-ruined ballroom, dancing without music in the moonlight. Lucie felt exhilarated. Enchanted. She loved the way she felt deliciously warm at the pressure of his hand on her waist, and the heart-stopping emotion in his face. She was fixated on him, hyper-aware of his smell, like rosewood and musk, and the way he exhaled when they stopped dancing. Lucie laid her head on his chest and breathed him in, his body warm and solid.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something about the emotion in his eyes when she pulled away, vulnerability and a kind of trust she knew was mirrored in her own face, that _spoke_ to Lucie.

It was almost as if his soul called to hers.


	2. Lucie x Jesse: "I'm glad you came."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the sake of this drabble, let’s pretend Grace had a stellar redemption arc, and that the necromancy went great. yes i am aware that is unrealistic but i want them to be happy, can you blame me

Jesse rocked back and forth in the carriage, fidgeting with the daffodils in his buttonhole. Grace looked at him from across the bench and laughed, lighter and happier than he’d ever heard from her.

“What are you so anxious about, Jesse? You know tonight will go well,” she said.

He sighed. How could he tell her that his exact concern was tonight’s inevitable disaster? Jesse didn’t know how he’d be received by the London Enclave. Though they all knew of his situation, most had yet to meet him. Their attitudes, their beliefs, were a complete mystery, and Jesse knew he very well may not be welcome within their circles.

Grace clearly hadn’t considered that possibility, or perhaps she was choosing to ignore it. Regardless, Jesse was glad she wasn’t plagued by the same thoughts. She hadn’t been at peace since before her parents’ deaths, and Jesse believed Grace deserved to live blithely for a good, long, while. They’d all suffered long enough from Tatiana’s hate, her bitter magic and the trail of hate she’d left in her wake, but Jesse had seen firsthand what Tatiana did to Grace. He knew her agony like no other.

Sensing that he was truly worried, Grace reached over and clasped his hands. Looking up into Jesse’s eyes with an almost painful trust, she said, “Don’t worry. Remember, the Herondales and Lightwoods insisted we attend. At least we can consider them our allies.” The light in her eyes suddenly playful, she finished with a wink, “And, don’t forget, a certain Miss Herondale will be there.”

Jesse couldn’t help but laugh, releasing the tightness in his shoulders. He _was_ looking forward to seeing Lucie. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.

In a blur, they were there, and whisked off into a hall right outside the ballroom. Jesse stared apprehensively at the massive swinging door. He could hear music playing, and people laughing, and glass clinking.

His sister turned to him from the looking glass, a hand still adjusting the irises in her hair. “Are you ready?” she asked with an encouraging look.

Jesse took a deep breath- _Keep it together_ \- and entered, Grace at his side.

Jesse looked around the ballroom with new eyes, mesmerized by the effect of several hundred spring blooms along the walls and tall glass windows. Lucie wasn’t lying when she said the Herondales could decorate. Speaking of the Herondales, there was Lucie’s brother; James, and Jesse’s cousins; the Lightwoods.

Jesse started to smile hopefully, his hat still clutched in his hands, but stopped short when he realized the crowd had stopped their chattering. Jesse’s gaze snapped back to the guests, heart sinking at the looks on their faces: ogling, goggle-eyed stares, and more than a few unkind glances. Grace placed a protective hand on her brother’s shoulder, daring anyone to say something cruel, but it was too late. Jesse’s face fell, and he looked around brokenly for a moment before turning on his heel and sprinting out of the ballroom.

Jesse didn’t know where he was going, he just ran until he thought no one could follow him. He felt terrible. He’d probably ruined the night for Grace, and she’d been so excited for tonight. For a week, he’d caught her smiling at random moments, staring off into nothing and oblivious of the conversation around her. Jesse was perfectly aware that she was falling for Christopher, though she didn’t know it herself yet.

Speaking of falling…

Jesse realized he’d wound up in the games room. Where he’d spoken to Lucie at an Institute ball last summer. Back then, he’d still been a ghost.

Well, Jesse was no longer a ghost, but what did that matter? He was still an oddity. Shunned, excluded. And maybe he should be. All he’d ever done was pretend to be a hero.

Suddenly, Jesse heard footsteps. He flinched and hurriedly wiped away stray tears, not wanting anyone to see him. The last thing he needed right now was a stranger’s pity.

“Jesse?”

He stiffened. He would recognize that voice anywhere.

Jesse turned around slowly, steadying himself. “Lucie? I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize,” she interrupted, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Jesse tried to smile. Looking at Lucie, it wasn’t that hard. He said, “Nothing! Well, nothing that truly matters,” he added hastily after seeing her skeptical look. “You-you look lovely, Lucie.”

She beamed. “You really think so?”

“I do.” He meant it- she was resplendent in a cream-and-blue silk gown, hair half-clipped back and tumbling around her shoulders in waves.

“Well, thank you, Jesse! You do look stunning as well,” she said, dimples in full force.

“Oh, Miss Herondale, is that a _blush_ I see?” Jesse asked with mock incredulity, drawing an exasperated laugh from Lucie. She picked up her skirts and crossed the room, pulling Jesse down on the sofa next to her.

“Now, your terrible jokes won’t distract me, though I appreciate the effort. I know there’s something wrong, but if you truly wish not to speak about it, I understand,” she said, bumping her shoulder with his companionably.

“It’s alright, Lu, thank you. Just… maybe I’m a bit disappointed that the Enclave doesn’t seem to think much of me. And perhaps they shouldn’t. I don’t exactly deserve their highest praises, now, do I?”

“Jesse!” Lucie exclaimed, a fierce light in her face. She grabbed his chin, tilting it down to make eye contact. “Do not let any of those _dolts_ tear you down! Those are the same shallow brutes that scorn my family, and gossip about my _parabatai_. They do not deserve _you_!” Jesse opened his mouth in protest, but Lucie plowed on.

“I will tell you as many times as you need me to until you believe it yourself. You _are_ a hero, and more than that, you’re our friend. The Enclave is a massive gathering of fools who think they should shame people like us, but as long as we’re together, we remind each other of the truth.”

Jesse, reassured and oddly touched, said, “Thank you, Lucie.”

She grinned back, standing up and offering a hand to him. “What do you say we return to the party? You owe me a dance, Mr. Blackthorn,” she teased, a twinkle in her eye. 

Jesse, surprising himself, said, “Wait.” As she paused, looking at him expectantly, Jesse moved a little closer, then immediately regretted it, then threw all doubt out the window and enveloped Lucie in a giant embrace.

Though taken back, Lucie smiled against his shoulder as she returned it just as tightly. Eventually, Jesse drew back enough to barely brush her forehead with his, and smiled quietly at Lucie before pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

He straightened up, adjusting his tie, and offered his arm to Lucie. “Shall we?”

Many a dance later, Jesse and Grace took their leave. Jesse couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth turning up, Grace knowingly shaking her head, as he helped her into the carriage.

“Jesse! Wait!”

Jesse turned, baffled, to see Lucie running at him, a silk shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She stopped, her expression delighted, and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“I just wanted to say… I’m very, very glad you came.”


	3. Jesse Blackthorn meets his relatives post-resurrection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesse meets Gideon, Gabriel, and Thomas. Includes Gabrily comfort scene, because I love them and they're extremely underrated. Thomas is an amazing friend, and Will is his usual self. Enjoy!

Gabriel straightened his tie in the mirror; a slow, deliberate movement. Distantly, he heard Cecily enter, softly closing the bedroom door behind her.

She joined him in watching their reflections, wrapping her arms around his waist. They stood there in the quiet until Cecily said, meeting his gaze in the mirror, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Gabriel sighed. Of course she could tell something was wrong. He sank down heavily on the edge of bed, and looked up at his wife. “I worry that Jesse will not feel welcome. Being raised by Tatiana…Cecy, it’s a wonder the boy is willing to meet us.”

Cecily placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, willing him to continue.

“I’m afraid. I know how easy it is for him to blame us for his childhood. I can’t make a mess of meeting him, I’ll ruin everything. Perhaps Gideon should go alone.”

Cecily replied, with the frank honesty he loved her for, “You’re expecting that Jesse will be exactly like his mother, when you should know better than anyone else how unlikely it is for children to be carbon-copies of their parents. From what we know about your nephew, he’s compassionate enough to give you a chance. That compassion can go a long way.”

Gabriel considered that. “And what of me? What if I manage to say exactly the wrong thing, and make it all worse?”

Cecily clasped his hand tightly. She said, “I know you. And if you cannot have faith in your ability to comfort and love Jesse, then let me lend you that faith. Believe me, Gabriel, you are more than capable of getting through to him.”

Gabriel smiled gratefully at Cecily, glad for the comfort. She pressed a long kiss to his forehead, then rose to go.

Just as she was about to leave, Cecily looked over her shoulder. “And, Gabriel? You might want to swap that tie. Goodness knows the boy’s more likely to be frightened off by your fashion sense than anything you might say.”

Surprised and a little insulted despite himself, Gabriel laughed. And though Cecily shook her head, he saw the hint of a smile on her face as she left the room.

********

Gideon peered through the crack of the open door, trying to catch a glimpse of Jesse before they entered the drawing room in the Institute. Gabriel, close beside him, hissed, “Gideon, don’t be so obvious moving the door, you blockhead! What if he sees us?”

Footsteps sounded behind them, and Gabriel and Gideon froze, slowly pivoting around- only to find Will Herondale grinning impishly at their expressions.

“You- you look like- a pair of schoolgirls caught- spying- on some handsome bastard,” Will cackled, doubling over in hysterics.

While Gideon shushed him, Gabriel, looking apprehensive, asked “Will, how is he? Is now a bad time? It must be. Gideon, let’s come back tomorrow. We should come back tomorrow,” he decided, arriving at his own conclusion before Will could get in a word.

Understanding passed across Will’s face. “Gabriel, he’s fine. He wants to meet you. Both of you,” he added, at the worry flashing in Gideon’s eyes. No doubt he was remembering his first encounter with Jesse, on that Christmas all those years ago.

Gabriel held Will’s gaze for a moment longer, then nodded and turned towards the door. He had a nephew to meet.

********

Jesse sat up a little straighter the second the door opened. In walked two men- his uncles. Gideon and Gabriel Lightwood.

Though he knew their faces, they were still strangers to him. The shorter one- Gideon- smiled tentatively, and Jesse furrowed his brows in confusion. Were they… nervous?

“Hello, Jesse,” said Gabriel. He looked as though he was unsure whether to shake Jesse’s hand or not. “I’m Gabriel. Your-your other uncle.”

“I know who you are,” said Jesse agreeably. He frowned. “I suppose that sounded dreadfully ominous. I meant that I have seen you before, even though you haven’t seen me. As an invisible ghost, I was able to watch, and, er, observe … other people,” Jesse trailed off, realizing he sounded both peculiar and highly disturbing.

So much for a good first impression.

The brothers seemed stunned into silence. Jesse, deciding to have some fun since he’d somehow already managed to confound them, said curiously, “Is it true you used to detest the Herondales? What happened? My mother liked to say they captured your interest with questionable methods and turned you to the dark side. It always sounded rather like Mr. Herondale placed some sort of love charm on you, and then you betrayed the whole family.”

Gideon choked on his water. Gabriel stared at Jesse dubiously. Beginning to panic, Jesse continued to ramble, disguising his blabbering as thoughtful reflection. “Though I suppose there are some gaps in the story, aren’t there? I mean, there’s the matter of how that love charm could last so long-”

A hearty laugh cut off his sentence, and Will Herondale spilled into the room. Gabriel put his head in his hands.

“Will!” Gideon sounded scandalized. “Listening at the door? Really? Does Tessa need to hear about this?”

Will put his hands up in surrender. “No, please don’t tell my wife! I’m leaving now, I promise.”

Gideon waited until he was out of sight, then yelled, “Will! Leave!”

Jesse heard receding footsteps. Bewildered, he wondered if occurrences like this were normal here.

Gabriel grimaced, glancing at Jesse. “Sorry, my boy. He tends to do that a lot. Never a dull day here.”

Jesse, slightly dazed, said, “Yes, I’m beginning to see that.”

“Well, we did want to offer you some sort of welcome. And to let you know that you will always have a place in our family,” said Gideon cautiously. “If, of course, you want that.”

“I- I appreciate that, I really do,” said Jesse. “I understand you are kind people. I want you to know that I’m aware of my mother’s lies, and that I do not blame you for anything, despite what she may have tried to get me to believe.” He looked down at his shoes. “I also do not blame you if you prefer that I stay away from your family. It is plain to me why you would, though I am grateful for your generosity, and honor in offering your help.”

Gideon inched a little closer to Jesse. “Of course we want you in our family! Jesse, I’m sorry. We’re sorry. We should have fought harder to be part of your life. It is not kindness that brings us here, but concern, and caring for your well-being.”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “If I may?”

Jesse looked at him, slightly nervous but not angry or dismissive. Gabriel examined his face, and clearly satisfied with whatever he saw there, went on. “Jesse, your mother didn’t want us anywhere near you. That’s not an excuse for neglecting you- or your sister. And though the circumstances are certainly odd, we now have a second chance. Should you be alright with it, we would like to learn how to be your family.”

Jesse could only nod, unable to explain why he suddenly felt a lump in his throat. “I would like that, Uncle Gabriel.”

Gabriel smiled, Gideon with him, and they soon fell into other topics of conversation. Jesse found that they, though awkward and clearly navigating unfamiliar territory, meant well.

As they left, Gabriel hung back a little bit. He motioned for Jesse to follow him into the weapons room.

“Odd spot for a private conversation, but I do appreciate being made to feel like a real Shadowhunter,” said Jesse, using his newly runed hand (Lucie had given him his first rune yesterday; to everyone’s relief, it went well) to trace the intricate engravings on a dagger hanging on the wall.

“That’s actually what I wanted to speak to you about,” said Gabriel, in a rush. “Jesse, would you perhaps want to- Well.” He took a deep breath. “I should very much like training you, if becoming a Shadowhunter is the path you choose to follow.”

Jesse, startled, took a step closer to Gabriel. “You would do that? For me?”

“You are my nephew. Blood is not always family, you will find, but you are a fine boy, Jesse, and I truly wish to be a part of your new life.”

Jesse didn’t know what consumed him to do it, but he threw his arms around his uncle, who held him just as tightly. When he pulled back, Gabriel’s eyes were shining. “Thank you,” he said, sounding surprised.

They said their goodbyes, and Jesse smiled as he watched his uncle leave the Institute.

Left alone for the first time all day, Jesse realized he was exhausted. For hours, he’d made polite small talk with strangers who’d stared at him curiously and asked borderline rude questions- his uncles being the only exception. He longed to run to a faraway corner of the Institute where he could have a moment alone.

He slipped into the library through a side door, hoping to sit there unnoticed.

No such luck.

Ten seconds after he picked up a book at random, flipping through it in a weak attempt to settle his fraying nerves, a voice interrupted his short-lived peace.

“That’s a good choice. Lucie did say you liked Dickens.”

Jesse inhaled deeply, then turned. As lightly as he could, he said, “Did she really? Well, I do like to read.”

Thomas Lightwood was standing opposite him, and he looked even more nervous than Jesse felt, if that was possible. His eyes were warm as he said, “Then you’ll certainly fit in with us.”

Jesse internally panicked. He wasn’t sure if he was staring at Thomas in horror or not, and desperately tried to remain calm.

Jesse had been in the Institute for nearly a week already, but he’d delayed meeting his cousins every time someone brought it up. So far he’d faced plenty of adults within the Enclave, mostly women who’d stared at him either in pity or concern- neither of which he appreciated- and men who interrogated him endlessly about matters he had no knowledge of.

In the back of his mind, he knew there were Shadowhunters his own age, people he knew by name and face only, whom he’d have to formally meet soon.

That set him on edge more than it should have. Jesse didn’t want to admit to himself why, so he instead squashed down the dread in his heart rather than acknowledge why the prospect of meeting the younger Shadowhunters in London made him so uneasy.

And so now, he found himself utterly unprepared, and couldn’t do anything but nod warily, mind racing with all the possible ways this could go wrong.

To his surprise, Thomas sighed and sat down heavily on an armchair, his massive shoulders curving inwards. “This is a hard time, isn’t it? I can’t imagine what you’ve had to endure so far. I must be pressuring you even further.”

Jesse released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You’re… actually the only person that’s stopped to consider that all week. Now I feel as though I owe you an apology. It’s probably not a secret that I’ve been hiding from you. All of you, really.”

Thomas considered that, then simply shook his head. “You don’t owe anyone anything, Jesse. You just found yourself in a new situation. The Clave can sometimes be an ongoing ambush of shouting adults, and it can’t be easy to be in your place right now with strangers arguing over your head like it’s not your life they’re talking about.”

There was a long pause. Jesse said quietly, “Many people are indeed like that. But some are much kinder than I expected. Kinder than I deserve.”

Looking directly at Thomas, he continued, “Why? What brings you to show a stranger any consideration? I am the reason for so many of your troubles. Had it not been for me, for what my mother did, consumed by madness, all your lives would be far less complicated.”

Thomas, once again, seemed thoughtful rather than put off. “You said it yourself. Your mother did that. Not you. We’re not the kind of people to blame you for what she might have done,” his voice suddenly took on a more intense undertone, “and you’ll see that for yourself, should you choose to befriend us.”

Jesse understood what his cousin was trying to tell him. He studied Thomas for a long moment, and finally said, “Thank you.”

Thomas inclined his chin, appeased. Before he could stop himself, Jesse asked, “Thomas. Why did you come to see me so late?”

Thomas hesitated, then said, “The others plan to come tomorrow morning. I thought it best to meet you on my own, since… Well, they mean to be friendly, but all together they can be a bit much. I wanted you to know none of us were blaming you for anything, so you wouldn’t be discouraged from befriending us.”

Jesse smiled then. “You’re not what I thought you’d be, Thomas Lightwood.”

Thomas smiled back. “I’ll take that as a compliment.


	4. Lucie x Jesse: "I'm with you."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> comfort, banter, almost-kiss, Lucie has Feelings and Ignores them

Lucie was still unused to Jesse’s nighttime visits, which he’d resumed as soon as she and Grace got him corporeal once again. They had only managed that feat a few weeks ago- Lucie worried that Jesse had _changed_ somehow in the months they’d been apart- but already they were back to their usual repartee, all laughter and teasing and the occasional secret or confession. 

She enjoyed the friendship they were building, but Lucie still got startled every time Jesse emerged from the shadows. It didn’t help that she never remembered to light her room, too consumed with writing, and had yet to be anything but jumpy whenever Jesse came to her. 

So, on one Wednesday night when Jesse appeared, soundlessly and swiftly as ever, Lucie couldn’t help instinctively throwing the stack of books she’d been furiously poring over. 

Jesse was used to this by now. He dodged the heavy volumes, which hit the floor with a resounding thud, and gave Lucie a look. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, “Blame it on my Shadowhunter reflexes?”

“The fact is that you seem to _enjoy_ flinging about heaps of paper at the smallest surprise,” observed Jesse, ignoring her apology. 

"Surprise’ implies something delightful. Cadbury chocolates. New books. Not the appearance of a shadowy figure in the corner of your chambers just as you are dozing off.”

Jesse only said, “Fair enough,” and picked up a book from the floor, but Lucie caught a momentary flicker in his smile as he pretended to skim the pages, and noted that he deliberately angled his body away from hers.

Lucie sighed and stood up, walking directly in front of him so he had no choice but to look at her. She hoped today hadn’t been hard for him, but if it had, she wanted to offer her friendship in support. “Jesse,” she said, “I was only joking. Truthfully, I immensely enjoy your company. I had no idea the dead could be so vivacious.”

Jesse bit his lip. “Lucie, may I ask you something?” 

“Yes, of course.”

"Are my visits… bothering you? You can tell me if they’ve been a nuisance. I’ve long wondered why you tolerate my presence so much-”

“Jesse!” Lucie, forgetting herself, clasped his hand in shock. “I don’t “tolerate” you. You are my friend, whom I am lucky to have- and no, not just because of any heroic deeds you may commit every once in a while,” she added, earning a small laugh from Jesse. “I enjoy your visits, and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.”

He still looked a little troubled. “But wouldn’t you rather spend time with your _parabatai_ -to-be? Be with your family, your friends?”

Lucie thought for a minute, then said, “I’m with you. And that’s more than enough.”

His smile resurfaced, with the teasing lift to it Lucie already considered familiar. He made to bow in mock courtesy, and yes, it was all in good fun, but Lucie caught her breath when he raised his head and she suddenly found herself closer to him than she’d ever been before. She’d never stared into Jesse's eyes like this, never seen the depthlessness in that electric green. 

Was it wrong that she wanted to look at him a little longer, the long, smooth muscles of him, the pin-straight, soft-looking hair? Was it wrong that Lucie wanted him to take the small step forward into her arms?

One step, that’s all it would take. Her gaze drifted down, to his lips...

A sudden loud clatter came from an adjoining room. Lucie blinked, and the daze she’d been in suddenly evaporated. She sprang back and let go of his hand, fearful of the thoughts that she’d finally let cross her mind. 

Jesse cleared his throat. “I should, er, go. See what that noise might have been?”

She nodded, suddenly confused, and let him disappear out of the room. Was it just her imagination, or had that been… awkward? Bashful? 

Lucie had the sinking realization that she wasn’t going to be able to run from her feelings any longer.

  
  



	5. Jesse x Lucie: "Snow White." (light angst, avoiding each other, comfort)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I like to think the London Institute's library is wonderfully labyrinthine. let me dream :')

Jesse walked between the bookshelves, running his fingertips across the spines of countless books. He found the library in the London Institute fascinating, with the knowledge in its air and in its paper. No doubt its walls kept many a secret.

Jesse stopped his exploration when a certain book caught his eye. It was beautiful, with heavy, cream-colored paper and a scarlet cover stamped with gold flowers.

 _Snow White_.

The title alone brought a swell of emotion within Jesse. Regret, remembrance. Heartache. _Lucie_.

They hadn’t spoken for weeks, and he’d only seen glimpses of her in that time. He knew Lucie was avoiding him- he’d sent notes, pounded on her door, done everything he could. Eventually he stopped trying. If she really cared, she would tell him what he did wrong in her own time.

Jesse tried to resent Lucie, but he just couldn’t. Not when she’d given him his life, not when she was the one who’d shown him friendship and light when he knew only loneliness.

He slipped the book into his jacket, and ventured deeper into the library. It was darker here, the books dusty, and Jesse was used to being the only one lonely enough to go this far, but not today. Today, he saw a witchlight flickering some distance away, and heard the soft rustle of turning pages.

Jesse glanced behind him. He wasn’t exactly needed at the Institute. He could afford to stay a little longer.

Jesse made his way toward the light, all the while wondering who would stray this deep into the library so late. Peeking out from a bookshelf, he tried to catch a glimpse of who it was- and panicked.

Throwing himself back against the shelf, praying she hadn’t noticed him, Jesse tried to control his breathing.

Of all people, why was Lucie Herondale here? Did the universe just hate Jesse? 

Jesse slowly slid down the bookshelf to sit on the floor. If she hadn’t seen him before, she’d definitely notice him trying to leave. He’d just have to wait her out and leave after she did, but knowing Lucie, that could take a while.

He heard her mutter to herself, something about giant lizards and trapped kingdoms, and tried to swallow his laugh. _You’re mad at her, remember?_ Jesse told himself, but deep down he didn’t really believe that. He wasn’t mad. He just missed her.

“I know someone’s there,” said Lucie suddenly.

Jesse’s heart jumped to his throat. Of course she knew. Curse those impeccable Shadowhunter instincts.

He slowly emerged from the safety of the shadows to stand in front her. Upon seeing him, Lucie looked up at the ceiling. He could see her shoulders rising and falling, her breathing irregular, and fought the urge to try to comfort her.

He simply took a seat across from her, and began to read a book he plucked up at random. He made sure to seem nonchalant, unruffled. If Lucie wanted them to have this conversation, she needed to be the one to start it.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Luce asked, her expression pained.

Jesse snapped the book shut, trying not to wince at the echoes of the noise in the near-silent library.

He offered her a thin, tight-lipped smile. “Is there something that _needs_ to be said, Miss Herondale?” Maybe that was a little cruel, but Jesse was fully aware of what his words implied. 

Lucie looked startled, then regained her composure. Lifting her chin in the air, stubborn as ever, she said, “So we’re back to surnames now? That is how you want it?”

Jesse knew he was nearing the end of his patience. If he stayed any longer he might lash out at her, and he couldn’t live with himself if he hurt Lucie. So, he made to stand up, gathering every bit of his strength to turn his back on Lucie.

She cried, “Wait!” but Jesse was already walking away, desperately willing himself not to cry. She shot up, grabbing his shoulder, and Jesse flinched away.

As he did, the book tumbled out of his jacket and out onto the ground between them. Jesse lunged for it, for some reason frantic to prevent her from seeing what it was, but she got there first.

Lucie picked up the book, turning it over in her hands thoughtfully. She looked at Jesse, their eyes meeting. 

He held her gaze, not wanting to be the one to break the contact.

She stepped towards him unsteadily. He could see the glassiness in her eyes, and knew they mirrored the tears welling up in his own.

“Jesse.”

He closed his eyes tightly, feeling sparks in his heart at the way she spoke his name.

Still she moved closer. “Jesse, I’m so sorry.”

“No.” Jesse opened his eyes. Lucie was close enough that he could count the freckles dusting her face. “What are you apologizing for? Placing yourself in danger? Lying to me about it? Telling me you’d always be by my side one day and ignoring me the next? Which is it, Lucie, which is it?”

Lucie’s voice wavered as she said, “You can hate me for everything I did after you only gave me the gift of your friendship. But, please, Jesse, may I explain first? Not because I deserve you, but because you deserve to know.”

Jesse’s eyes widened. “Lucie, no. I could never hate you. I know why you did what you did. I understand.”

“You do?”

“I do. I wasn’t happy, but I understood. It’s just…”

She’d taken one of his hands, pressing it to her forehead.

“It’s just that you have no idea how much it hurts to be away from you, Lucie,” he said, voice cracking.

With that, he couldn’t stop himself. He laid his head down on her shoulder, shaking with silent sobs. Lucie sank down, pulling him with her into a more comfortable position, and wrapped her arms around him tightly. Protectively. The way he’d always wanted to be held.

“Jesse, I’m-I’m sorry. I missed you so much. More than I could ever tell you,” said Lucie, drawing back to look in his eyes. Jesse shivered at the intensity of her stare.

“I missed you too, Lucie.”

She smiled softly, and touched their foreheads together. Jesse knew there were things they needed to talk about, things still unspoken that would soon need to be said aloud.

But for now, he could stay in Lucie’s arms. Lucie, who he suspected he might be falling for. Lucie, who he would never give up on, who stroked his hair and whispered comforts in his ear, who was beautiful, and brave, and true. Lucie, who was the only person who would ever feel what Jesse felt when he touched that volume of _Snow White_. 


	6. James meets Jesse (and Lucie has to prevent a murder)

“Jamie.” Lucie poked her head into his doorway. “James, I need your help with something.”

James sighed and made a show of rising from where he’d been sprawled out on the floor. He’d learned a thing or two from his _parabatai_ about theatrical gestures. “James, it’s important.”

He rarely heard his sister use a tone so serious. James’s eyes instantly narrowed, a mixture of concern and suspicion. “Luce, what’s going on? Tell the truth.”

Lucie exhaled, no doubt debating what to say next. She came into the room, her hands moving wildly in the air. Lucie never could sit too still. “James, just don’t- panic, all right? It’s not as big a matter as you might be inclined to believe at first, though it is important, and I’ll need your discretion, I haven’t even spoken to my own parabatai about this, Jamie, I-”

James interrupted her nervous chatter. This was clearly something Lucie needed him for, and he instantly made up his mind to do whatever he could to protect Lucie- though James, who had too much elder-brother pride for his own good, would never admit that to her face. “Could you show me? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Lucie nodded, her chin set and her eyes solemn. Swiftly, she turned on her heel and walked quickly in the direction of her bedroom.

James hurried after her, going over a thousand possible scenarios. At best, this was a minor mishap, or a burning question for her upcoming _parabatai_ ceremony. At worst… well, that was a rabbit hole he could rapidly spiral down. Lucie was every inch a Herondale, inclined to tumultuous behavior in the footsteps of their father. Definitely not because of James’ influence, though. James was very responsible, and mature, and-

James abandoned that (not entirely accurate) train of thought as soon as Lucie paused in front of the door. She was uncharacteristically hesitant, eyeing James as though she was scared of his reaction to what laid inside.

“By the angel, Luce, just open the door.”

She bit her lip. “James, on second thought, maybe this isn’t the best idea-”

With that, James had reached the end of his patience. He shouldered past Lucie and shoved open the door, only to gape silently at the sight that lay before him.

James stared, scandalized, at the boy standing sheepishly in his sister’s bedchamber- and stripped down to his shirtsleeves, no less!

“Gah!” shrieked James, whirling on Lucie. “I- what. Lucie! Who- Is- _WHAT_?!” 

Apparently incapable of coherent thought, James could think of nothing else to do but fling off his coat and throw it at the gentleman. James fully intended to find out exactly what happened here, but he did not think he could tolerate that conversation whilst this boy was at the height of impropriety in Lucie’s company.

“Lucie. Explain. Now. Actually,” James said, putting a hand up when she opened her mouth, “Leave. I believe this fellow can convince me himself why I shouldn’t tear him to pieces.

He grinned manically at the boy, making sure he had a good view of James stroking the assorted daggers in his belt.

Lucie made no move to exit. James, now much more enraged than shocked, slowly pivoted around to face her with as murderous a look as he could summon. Lucie, to her credit, didn’t stand down.

“Lucie Herondale. You have ten seconds before I rip this _scamp_ to pieces, and you with him,” James hissed, his teeth clenched. He knew he looked like the devil right now, steam probably pouring out of his ears, but he didn’t care. Oh, he was going to _strangle_ Lucie-

“Grace and I did necromancy to bring back her brother and Jesse was the one who saved your life, James,” Lucie blurted, “He gave you his last breath so you could live, he’s the reason you’re alive, I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, anyways, everything is fine now, but maybe you should know that I can command the dead and that’s also the reason Cordelia didn’t die when she fell from the bridge and also that’s why Gast told us what we needed to know all those months ago,” Lucie finished, all in a rush. She immediately looked horrified, clapping her hand over her mouth. James looked over at Jesse, who put his head in his hands.

James swayed. “You can- what?” He felt dizzy all of a sudden. Where was Matthew’s flask? He’d stolen it from him earlier….

Lucie rushed over to his side, looking worried. “Jamie, I’m sorry I slammed you with all of that information, but Jesse is a good man, I promise-”

James sat up all of a sudden. Right. The Blackthorn boy was still here.

He felt all of his outrage come back. Pointing at Jesse, he said, “You and I shall have a word.” Lucie went to Jesse’s side as if to defend him, but the look James shot her was menacing enough that she put up her hands and took a step back. “You too, Lucie. I cannot even begin to think about all you just told me. But first… Angel knows I need a bloody drink.”

After the ensuing explanations, James’s (hushed) cursing would have made a sailor blush. As one might imagine, he had a wildly entertaining time interrogating Jesse Blackthorn, and Lucie had to restrain her brother’s hands more than once to avoid yet another crime being committed in the Herondale family.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought. :D
> 
> If you have a TSC fic request/suggestion, please send it to me! my tumblr is @fairchild-squad


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